Waves of ever-changing patterns of light flash past the Silver Dragon. They shift and twist and reform new patterns as the ship traverses a new dimension.
Reynard eases back on the joystick controller as the Dragon slips into the second phase of hyperspace. His stomach pulsates from the hydrochloric acid returning to normal. Every time he crosses dimensions, his gastric system churns into overload. None of his fellow crewmates seem bothered by the smooth transition from one dimension to another, but he always feels sick for those few moments, making him wish he didn’t have to give his next order.
“We drop out after an hour of travel and slip back into hyperspace along a new trajectory and lose the dozens of Mokarran craft searching for us.”
“You need to return me to Aurora,” the princess demands in a calm, orderly tone.
Reynard unclasps his seatbelt harness. He glides toward the princess. “Not against your mother’s wishes.”
“Speak not of my mother. She will be the first queen to reinstitute placing your entire crew on pikes in the royal gardens.
“Doubtful. Your mother hired us to remove you from your wedding.”
“Lies!”
Reynard unfurls a necklace from between his finger allowing a silver pendant to dangle before the princess’s face. “She said you would know who gave her this.”
The princess allows tears to roll from her eyes. “How did you get my father’s...”
“He presented it on their wedding night. Alone. Only he, the queen, and you, which she informed you about it this morning, knew of its origin.”
“You stole it from her when you attacked my wedding.”
Reynard drops to his hams to be eye level with the princess, removing any possible threatening posture toward her. He drops the pendant into her palm and rolls her fingers over the top of it, squeezing her hands tight around the metal.
“Even if true, how would I know who gave it to her?”
“You forced it from her.”
“Now you’re just grasping at anything to cling to the truth you want to believe. Believe this. Your mother sent you with us to protect you from the Mokarran.”
“Why would she do this? My wedding assured no Mokarran invasion of Aurora.”
“Your mother felt the wedding assured only your death and the Mokarran would seize the throne without actually invading. Now they must make a show of tracking down your kidnappers and rescuing you.”
Amye comprehends the greater danger. She wonders how Kymberlynn would assess this.
“What we will do is lock you in your new quarters and give you some time to acclimate yourself to your surroundings. Your mother sent some of your personal effects. Once you accept this ship as your new home, we’ll let you out, but you won’t be allowed to leave the Dragon for a long time.”
“Even if my mother did desire this, I’ll see your head on that spike for your ill treatment of me.”
“Amye, ill-treat her all the way to her quarters. Make sure the door’s secure.” Reynard smiles at her once he turns his face away from the princess’s. He wonders if a little good cop/bad cop might help, then wonders if these people even have the good cop/bad cop scenario.
Amye releases Michelle’s seatbelt latch. “Come, my lady. Let’s put away your dress. You’ll still be able to wear it when you return to Aurora.”
Michelle understands her current situation could become worse. Terror of being violated by this man melts into her face.
“No one will touch you, for any reason, other than your own protection,” Amye assures her.
Reynard fails to mention the final restriction conveyed by the queen upon him. He waits until Amye has removed Michelle. “Doug, open communications to Admiral Maxtin.”
After a few moments of entering commands at his station, Doug glances at his captain. “I sent a request. He’s currently unavailable.”
Reynard laughs to himself.
“May I inquire as to what is humorous about the Admiral not being available?” Australia asks.
“Popular entertainment on my home world was fake shows about other people’s lives you could view on a monitor. Our culture was built around these programs. And no matter what, when the main character had to speak with someone, they always answered the communication device immediately.”
“No one was ever indisposed?”
“Never. In fact, when they did not answer, it was a plot point that the person being contacted was in immediate peril. People were just expected to be sitting by the phone waiting for the hero to call.”
“I understand the humor. Anyone wanting to keep secret operations private could not just run to the comm at any moment when an agent calls.”
“In the television programs, waiting for someone to complete a mundane household chore before returning the call would slow down the action.”
“I must witness some of these programs as part of my cultural study of old-Earth Osirians.”
“I’ve collected quite a few,” Doug offers.
Athena chirps, “Incoming transmission from Admiral Maxtin.”
“On screen,” Reynard orders.
“Commander, were you able to assist Queen Aurora?” Maxtin’s white-haired face fills the entire main view screen.
“She asked us to Shanghai her daughter on her wedding day to prevent the Mokarran from using her in their political takeover of the Aurora star system. Funny thing, Maxtin, she told me she hasn’t had contact with you in decades,” Reynard remarks with no hint of an accusation in his tone.
“The queen fought under an assumed identity at the Battle of the Twin Suns. No one, not even the royal court, knew what she was doing. Only I, and she, knew of her birthright. The lieutenant she was impersonating received a death citation for valor. Before you criticize, she earned it for distinguished action during the battle saving many who should have died. She just could not accept it as a future queen. I doubt she will admit to anyone what she did.”
“She was none too happy with me knowing about it.”
“She had a personal audience with you?” Maxtin asks.
“Yeah.”
“She did need your assistance. And you have the princess with you?”
“She’s safely aboard.”
“Excellent. I have your next task. Return to Tri-Star Federation space.”
“Not a problem. The
